


Tell Us What You Want

by evelynIttor



Series: Hell Recovery Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Communication Failure, Fear, Gen, Post Hell, fear of mirrors, hell issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynIttor/pseuds/evelynIttor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s starting to come out of his post-Hell fugue state and he doesn’t like it here. Cotton Candy Bingo Prompt Communication</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Us What You Want

Sam is too out of it to feel awkward at first. Dean and Lisa take turns helping him, he needs it. He shakes with fear when he’s alone and his hands tremble too much to do even the simplest of tasks. 

But as he starts to come back to himself, when he can see beyond the devil and his words start to make sense, it’s weird. He sleeps in their bed and Dean helps him shower in the morning and shaves him afterwards. Lisa helps him eat, taking over when he spills a spoonful of oatmeal onto his lap for the third time.

He quivers in fear in the darkness, trying to be quiet. Ben’s got friends over downstairs and he doesn’t know where Dean and Lisa are. Probably taking a break from looking after the head case brother. This can’t be the life that Dean dreamt of having, a family of his own, and a crazy brother to look after.

Sam’s not sure how he manages to stand up and walk out of the linen closet. It was warm and enclosed in there, no mirrors. Lisa likes shiny things, mirrors especially. Sam doesn’t say how much they bother him. He doesn’t want to screw their life up any more.

He doesn’t knock at their bedroom door. Well, the bedroom, because he sleeps there too, sandwiched between his brother and his brother’s girlfriend and there’s probably something weird there too, but it feels right, so he doesn’t think about it.

He should have knocked. 

“Sam!” Dean’s at his side in a second, the comforter from the bed wrapped around his waist. “Are you okay?”

Sam turns away from the bed, away from Lisa. He knows what they were doing and he’s interrupted. Because why should his brother be able to do things without him getting in the way?

“Sorry. I’ll go.”

“You’re shaking. Did something happen? Sam, I was going to be there when you woke up from your nap. I promise, you usually sleep longer. Did you have a nightmare again?”

He did, but that’s not the point right now. But Sam nods anyways.

“Hey, hey, just look at me.” Dean’s got an arm around him now and Sam’s shuddering against him. “Let’s sit down. Right here, okay?” And they sink to the floor, Sam’s leaning against his brother, his head pressed against Dean’s chest so he can hear his heart beating.

“What’s wrong Sam?” Dean asks him a couple of minutes later, once the shaking has calmed down a little.

“I don’t like it.” Sam mutters into Dean’s chest. It’s soft and warm and he rubs his nose over his brother’s nipple.

“Don’t do that.” Dean pulls back a little, rearranging them so that Sam’s still curled up around him, but now Sam’s head is in his lap and Dean runs his fingers through Sam’s hair. It feels nice.

“What don’t you like?” Lisa asks and her voice makes Sam jump, but she’s brought a warm washcloth with her and she wipes the fear sweat from his face and he relaxes again.

“I don’t like it here.” Sam murmurs, almost a whisper. “Sorry.” 

“That’s okay Sam. Where do you want to be? Bobby’s? Want to go stay at a motel for a couple days?” Dean asks, they’ve done both of those before, but Sam doesn’t like travelling, doesn’t like being in a car anymore and it makes going places painful for everyone involved.

“I don’t like the mirrors.” Sam whispers, turning his face so that it’s buried in the comforter over Dean’s lap. He hears Lisa get up and listens to the sound of her footsteps and the sound of cloth being shaken out. 

“Is she making the bed?” He asks, trying to paint a picture of the surroundings in his head. It helps, to imagine what it’s supposed to look like. Then, when he actually looks at it, he can try and ignore the other stuff, the stuff that’s not really there.

“No Sammy.” Dean says and his voice sounds different. Like he’s crying. But Dean doesn’t cry.

Sam lifts his head up and sits up, leaning against Dean’s chest, letting his body rise and fall with each breath that his brother takes.

Lisa’s tucking a sheet over the mirror, fastening it at the top with her hair elastic. “We can fix this Sam.” She finished securing the covering and comes back to join them on the floor. “Remember, if there’s something that we can do to make you feel safe, to make you comfortable, you have to tell us.”

“Okay Sam? You hear that? We’re going to get rid of the mirrors, or cover them, or put them outside.” Dean’s rubbing a hand over his back and it feels really really good, like protection personified. 

Sam nods. “I want to be better.” He whispers, really quietly into the blanket.

“We’re getting there.” Dean reminds him. And they are. He talks now and walks around the house and this morning he got dressed by himself. Well, Dean was still there with him, but he put his clothes on alone.

“Tell us what you need.” Lisa says. “Do you even like oatmeal?”

Sam shakes his head in the blanket. He doesn’t, at least not the way that Lisa makes it. But’s it’s food and she always makes it for him, so he tries to eat it.

“That’s okay.” And now it sounds like she’s crying too. “Do you want a snack?” She asks. “How about popcorn?”

“I like popcorn.” Sam does, but he doesn’t like the sound of it popping in the microwave. It sounds too much like bones breaking and then he can’t eat it.

“I’ll go make us popcorn. Maybe you can pick out a movie for us to watch with it?” Lisa asks and her hands rubs over his shoulder for a moment before she gets up.

“I’m sorry.” Sam whispers once her footsteps have faded away.

“Don’t be.” Dean says and it sounds like he means it. “You’re getting better, and as long as you keep trying, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”


End file.
